


Surprising

by abbymaryyye



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Atsumu has ADHD, M/M, it's not outwardly stated but it's implied, kiyoomi is snooping around while atsumu's in the shower, they're about to go on their first date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbymaryyye/pseuds/abbymaryyye
Summary: Atsumu’s apartment is, like so many other things about him, surprising.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 159





	Surprising

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in months so this was just a little exercise to get the juices flowing again! Not much happens here, but I thought I'd put it up anyway

Atsumu’s apartment is, like so many other things about him, surprising.

They’d gotten back to Atsumu’s place about an hour ago, fresh out of practice. Atsumu had been asking Kiyoomi to dinner for the past week and a half, and Kiyoomi had finally, finally given him a definitive yes after many, many maybes. For simplicities sake, Atsumu had offered his apartment as their changing room before they went out. 

Atsumu had left Kiyoomi alone in the two-room space just a few minutes before—“for my turn in the shower,” he’d said. He’d let Kiyoomi use the shower first, which Kiyoomi greatly appreciated. Atsumu had said he’d even disinfected the shower before leaving the house this morning, and Kiyoomi had nodded his thanks (even though he still took a few minutes to wipe it down himself). 

Kiyoomi can hear the shower running now, as well as Atsumu’s voice as he hums along to some incomprehensible song. While he waits, Kiyoomi takes a stroll through the apartment. He’s been here before, a few times at least, but rarely with only himself and Atsumu present, and never completely by himself. Now, on his own with Atsumu singing away in the bathroom, Kiyoomi is able to actually observe how Atsumu decides to live in his personal space. 

Kiyoomi had expected a pig’s sty, if he’s being honest. Hardly anything about Atsumu particularly struck him as “very neat.” It’s a pleasant surprise to find that the apartment is not, in fact, a pig’s sty, but is actually decently clean. Atsumu is nothing if not surprising. 

The kitchen is deceptive, Kiyoomi decides upon closer inspection. It doesn’t seem like it was ever very dirty, as the trash can isn’t full and there’s no dust or smell or anything, but the counters are all cleared off. The job looks like it was done very hastily, though. As if Atsumu had known someone who has an aversion to messes was coming over that evening but he didn’t have time to do a deep clean, Kiyoomi thinks with a small chuckle. There’s a pair of scissors sticking out of one of the cabinet drawers, and Kiyoomi feels compelled to fix it. He grabs a paper towel from the near-empty roll beside the sink and uses it to cover his hand as he pulls out the drawer and then repositions the scissors. The drawer is a mess, full of what Kiyoomi suspects is the clutter that had been quickly cleared off the counter’s surface. In the limited time the drawer is open, he sees a measuring tape, an oven mitt with a hole in the palm, and many pencils sharpened down to nubs. Not wanting to be too invasive, Kiyoomi slides the drawer shut.

On the counter above the drawer sits a small coffee maker, a small basket of K-cups placed beside it. All of them are vanilla flavored. One of the vanilla-flavored K-cups is inserted into the top of the coffee maker, and an empty mug sits under the spout. Kiyoomi hums. He supposes Atsumu had forgone his coffee this morning in favor of clearing off the counter, and he feels a little bad. Just a little. 

Kiyoomi removes the K-cup from the coffee maker, closes the lid, then places it in the basket. 

There are a few dishes in the sink, though nothing Kiyoomi has to be disgusted by. There’s a plate with a few bread crumbs on it, as well as a glass with a small amount of water left in it. Behind the sink sits a pill bottle, mostly empty except for maybe six or seven pills. The cap is only loosely screwed on, but Kiyoomi doesn’t particularly want Atsumu to know he’d spotted it so he leaves it alone. 

Kiyoomi ambles over to the refrigerator then, observing all the things stuck to the doors. A photo of Atsumu’s high school team, his jersey bearing the number seven, is stuck right next to a second photo of Atsumu’s high school team, though in the second one Atsumu wears the number one. Underneath the team photos are a few pictures of Atsumu and his brother as they were growing up, and then one of them with arms slung over each other’s shoulders standing in front of Onigiri Miya. On the second door, there’s a few photos of their MSBY team, as well as—

Kiyoomi falters a bit, eyebrows raising. 

As well as their MSBY team photos, there are three photos of Kiyoomi himself. One is a selfie Atsumu had gotten of the two of them (via sneak attack, Kiyoomi remembers bitterly), and the other two are both cut out of magazines. He’s a little surprised that Atsumu had taken time out of his day to cut out those photos. 

(But actually, he’s not that surprised. Atsumu’s crush on Kiyoomi is anything but surprising.)

His cheeks warm a bit as he quickly turns his attention to the calendar hung on the side of the fridge. It’s three months behind, with only a few events written onto it. Kiyoomi knows that Atsumu’s schedule is far busier than his calendar lets on. He wonders how Atsumu keeps track of everything he needs to do. 

Kiyoomi moves into the second room of the apartment, which triples as a bedroom, a living room, and an office. The bed is messy and unmade. A small fox plush sits beside Atsumu’s two pillows, a shirt pulled over its body that says “Thing 1.” Kiyoomi gives a small laugh—that implies the existence of a “Thing 2” somewhere out in the world (likely wherever Miya Osamu is). The thought is surprisingly… cute. 

There’s nothing of note on Atsumu’s couch, just a couple throw pillows and a blanket. His desk is more interesting. The small desk lamp is turned on, so Kiyoomi turns it off. Pens and pencils are strewn across the surface, as well as a few papers. Some of the papers appear to be forms, but for what, Kiyoomi doesn’t check. Atsumu’s laptop is sitting on the desk as well, the top closed so Kiyoomi can see the stickers Atsumu has stuck to it. There’s a volleyball, a tennis shoe, a pokeball, and a rice ball. The stickers look old and worn, telling Kiyoomi they’d been there for quite a while. Atsumu’s headphones are still plugged into the headphone jack, hanging off the edge of the desk. 

Kiyoomi is so engrossed in his tour of Atsumu’s home that he doesn’t hear when the other man walks out of the bathroom. He only notices when Atsumu comes up beside him and pulls open one of the desk drawers. Kiyoomi startles for a moment before relaxing, watching as Atsumu pulls a lint roller from the drawer. Atsumu sees him watching and offers a warm smile.

Kiyoomi stands silently as Atsumu steps back and begins to lint roll his clothes. The silence is comfortable for Kiyoomi, but he can tell Atsumu is just a little bit tense so he tries to remedy that. 

“How was your shower?” he asks, accepting the lint roller when Atsumu offers. He begins to methodically run it over his clothes, sticking to his usual order of torso, arms, legs. 

“Good,” Atsumu says, taking the roller back after Kiyoomi is done and placing it back in the drawer. “Sorry if my singin’ bothered ya!” 

Not at all. “I guess you skipped music classes growing up, huh.”

“Hey now! Yer s’pposed to say ‘no, Tsumu, I actually thought ya were really great and have the voice of an angel!’”

Kiyoomi huffs out a small laugh as they make their way to the front door. He reaches for his pocket to pull out his mask, only to find one of the elastics has snapped. Kiyoomi furrows his brow and begins to worry. His worry is put on halt when he sees Atsumu offer him something out of the corner of his eye. In his hand, Atsumu holds a plain paper mask. And not just any mask; it’s Kiyoomi’s favorite brand. 

After he slips the mask onto his face and takes Atsumu’s clothed elbow in hand, Kiyoomi can’t help but think, once again, that this man is nothing if not surprising.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it this far, thanks for reading!


End file.
